


nighttime disturbances

by streetlight_skeletons



Series: seer [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:33:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streetlight_skeletons/pseuds/streetlight_skeletons
Summary: It started:Jason felt both relief and anger wash over him as Dick’s head snapped up and he lowered his gun quickly, letting it swing unneeded by his side. Eyes widening slightly, he then swiftly put the gun behind his back and unconsciously stepped forward as his eyes caught Dick’s red-rimmed ones.It ended:“You stay with me, Dickhead, I swear to god…” Jason snarled as he pushed down on Dick’s abdomen, nearly gagging as he felt his brother’s warm blood continue to seep through his clenched-white fingers and gush out over his shaking hands. He felt betrayed by his own body as his eyes began to sting.





	1. Chapter 1

Jason snapped awake and immediately hated himself for it. He looked to the ceiling, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of his room and let his ears make up for their current uselessness; listening for whatever had woken him up and planning to have some strong words with the source because he needed his sleep like he needed air. To be fair, he was never a morning person, but nobody was when his internal clock told him it was around 2am.

 

He lay in bed for a while, beginning to wonder if he was once again going out of his mind before he heard it - shuffling coming from the hallway outside his room.

 

He had silently but swiftly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed before his sleep-ridden mind had time to think. He reached under his pillow for the handgun that resided there, knowing that Bruce would freak out if he knew he had it but couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment. His eyes trained on the gap along the bottom of the door where two feet had stopped and obscured the light of the moon that shone under Jason’s door from the window across the hallway.

 

His mind raced. Bruce and Damian were out on patrol still, so it wasn’t them. Replacement was out with Young Justice on an away mission and Alfred would be long tucked up in bed at this time of night. Jason’s eyes darkened and his gaze focused as he thought of the butler being caught unaware by the intruder. He shifted upwards and stood slowly.

 

He edged silently towards the door but stopped suddenly when the shadow moved to the left, heading towards the stairs. He listened intently as his guest moved unsteadily down the hall. Jason heard him work his way down the stairs, counting his steps to see when he would hit the bend in the staircase that would cause him to lose sight of the upstairs hallway and then, he made his move.

 

He slid the door open, praising Alfred and his well-oiled doors before stepping out into the hall. He looked down the right to ensure Alfred’s door was shut, which it was, and turned left, his hands locked onto the gun held defensively in front of him. He suddenly wished he was in his suit; his plaid pyjama bottoms swished against his leg, making unnecessary noise and his black shirt clung tight to his skin, restricting his movement slightly.

 

He followed the intruder to the kitchen, the door ajar. He crept forward and slowly pushed the door open, quickly swinging into the room, gun first.

 

His intruder sat at the kitchen island, hunched over, illuminated by the moon glaring through the large bay windows. He seemed to have something draped over him, almost like a cape, and Jason immediately tensed up; a caped villain in the manor was the last thing they needed. However, the man’s head was still bowed, oblivious to his spectator. Jason felt confusion flood through him and his left hand left his gun to flip the light on. Surely a villain with ill-intent would be more aware of their surroundings?

 

Jason felt both relief and anger wash over him as Dick’s head snapped up and he lowered his gun quickly, letting it swing unneeded by his side. Eyes widening slightly, he then swiftly put the gun down his pyjama bottoms at the back and stepped forward as his eyes caught Dick’s red-rimmed ones. Dick, over their shared state of shock before Jason, wiped at his eyes not-so-discreetly and straightened up. The sheet that had rested over his shoulders slipped and drifted to the floor silently.

 

“Hey, Jay,” Dick spoke faintly as he settled, clutching his hands in front of him on the island and a ghost of a smile haunting his lips. He stared at Jason, indicating that he was letting him make the first move to lead the conversation.

 

Jason examined his brother’s anguished face and decided that this situation was out of his comfort zone. Jason shrugged slowly. “If you want me to leave..-?"

 

“ _No_!” Dick exclaimed frantically, slightly louder than necessary. He froze, seeming to be surprised at himself. Jason’s brows furrowed and he watched with suddenly suspicious, narrowed eyes as Dick looked down and ran a shaking hand through his unruly hair and chuckled to himself mockingly with a self-deprecating grin that Jason immediately disliked. Dick seemed to think for a minute before he said, “I’m sorry that I woke you up, I- I was just... thirsty, is all.”

 

Silence fell like blanket of snow; slowly building up until it seemed impenetrable. Jason watched Dick with disbelieving eyes but still managed to be startled when Dick quickly surged from his seat at the kitchen island and stalked towards the fridge with a purpose. Jason had an overwhelming desire to phone Bruce or even get Alfred to mop up his brother’s emotional seepage so that he could crawl back into bed, but, for some reason, he found himself rooted to the spot. He was almost concerned. _Almost_.

 

Dick swung the fridge door open with much more force than what was needed. “Good job Alfred keeps the fridge well stocked, eh?”

 

Jason hummed, noncommitting, but Dick didn’t seem to hear him as he snatched a carton from the shelf on the fridge door. “Hardy glass of apple juice ought to do the trick, right?”

 

Jason let the question fly and then fall flat. He crossed his arms. Dick was trying his very best to drag him into small talk at an ungodly-hour in the morning and, frankly, he wasn’t in the mood. Dick looked at him with an almost pleading look in his eye that Jason couldn’t work out. He didn’t budge. Dick took a swing from the carton, something that Alfred would no doubt have a small stroke over if he had ever caught the golden boy doing it.

 

“Tonight’s cold, isn’t it? Might have to get a spare blanket from the closet,” Dick carried on his charade, as Jason felt an inkling at the back of his mind inch forward. He let his arms drop to his sides. He let his eyes roam over Dick, taking in every detail - just like he was trained to.

 

His brother’s dark hair was limp and hanging in his eyes, something that Jason knew that Bruce bristled over, never saying anything because he knew that he didn’t have that kind of authority over his eldest anymore. Dick’s skin was no longer glistening with sweat after his exposure to the cold air of the kitchen, but the tatty _Scooby Doo_ shirt that Tim had bought Dick as a joke was soaked through; patches under his arms and a triangle of dampness inching up his back.

 

But what Jason found most striking about Dick was his eyes. Of course, he wasn’t alone in that statement, one would only have to watch Dick be flocked by the daughters of filthy-rich investors at the annual _Wayne Enterprises Fundraiser_ to realise that, but Jason found them interesting at that point in time for an entirely different reason. His brother’s eyes seemed to be wider and deeper in his face and underneath his eyes seemed to be dabbed in the teabags that brewed the tea that Alfred was so fond of.

 

They also had a gleam of something that warned him of a wild sense of spontaneity that made Jason shift to a more aware and ready position self-consciously. The last time Dick had had that look in his eye was when Jason had ended up having to haul his brother from the glacier-cold river while on patrol. When he had managed to drag his brother’s half unconscious and trembling ass back the manor, Jason had had to deal with a stony-faced Damian, a worried Tim and a silently furious Bruce while Dick had ended up with a nasty case of pneumonia that kept an overwrought Alfred up all night. All over a bloody cat.

 

But, for some reason, even after taking it all in, there was only one baffling question on his mind. Why was Dick bothering to speak so much?

 

“Alright, that’s me done,” Dick said fervently, unaware of the epiphany that was slowly dawning on his brother’s mind. He put the apple juice back in the fridge.

 

Jason opened his mouth but, seeing it, Dick ploughed on, “Robin and Batman should be home soon, if you wanna wait, but I’m going back to bed. Early morning and all that, I-“

 

“ _Stop_ , Dick, just.. stop,” Jason sighed, frustrated that it had taken him this long to figure out his brother’s little code. The unusual word order of _Batman and Robin_ had given him away. He rubbed one hand over his face as the other sat on his hip. “Why didn’t you just say? I could have-“

 

“Dickie? Jason? Everything alright..?”

 

Jason let his hand drop from his face and raised his head to stare at the ceiling in disbelief, his hands on his hips. There’s no way that Dick would say anything now, not with a reputation to uphold. Bruce had always had the worst timing.

 

“What? Oh, yeah, everything’s fine, just wanted a drink. Patrol go okay?”

 

Jason kept his face impassive and faced towards the ceiling while his eyes swivelled to watch Bruce on the other side of the kitchen. Jason watched as Bruce’s brow furrowed at Dick’s words and the billionaire swept his intense gaze over his eldest son’s appearance, taking in everything, just as Jason had. Bruce turned, their eyes met, and Jason couldn’t answer the questioning look in his eyes without giving anything away to Dick, so he subtly raised his shoulders in a shrug. Bruce’s eyes narrowed and he looked back at Dick, who was unusually oblivious to their silent conversation.

 

“Patrol went.. fine,” Bruce articulated slowly, his arms crossed over his chest, “You _sure_ everything is alright here?”

 

“Hm?” Dick startled and glancing up from where he had been staring at the marble top of the kitchen island. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Jason huffed internally; everything is always _fine_. Sensing that Bruce was closing in, Dick bid a hasty retreat from the kitchen, throwing his ‘ _goodnights_ ’ over his shoulder. _Smart man_ , Jason thought appraisingly.

 

“What’s up with Grayson?” Damian spoke up from his place in the shadows of the doorway, where he had no doubt been listening. His words seemed to be mocking and uncaring, but they lost their sharp edge when an oddly protective tone worked its way into the young boy’s voice. He slipped from the shadows and stepped around Bruce to stand slightly in front and crossed his arms, glaring up at Jason as if it was his fault, his woolly pyjamas not seeming to change the effectiveness of his harsh gaze.

 

Jason couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. Damian had never lost that sense of loyalty from when the cowl had been remoulded around Dick’s hard head, and Jason knew that whenever someone would suddenly say “ _Batman_ ”, Damian would unknowingly flash his eyes towards Dick before settling on Bruce. Jason also knew that Bruce knew, but the billionaire had never said anything - why, Jason had no clue.

 

Instead of taking offence, Jason dropped his hands from his hips and chuckled quietly to himself, staring incredulously at the mirror image of Bruce and Damian, both staring at him with a demanding gaze, their feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. _Like father, like son_ , Jason thought incredulously.

 

"Bad dreams, I think,” Jason reported quietly, not giving anything away about how he had found his brother. It felt too much like a betrayal.

 

Damian immediately dropped his defensive stance and shifted forward while Bruce’s face softened minutely. Damian looked at the ground and swallowed, before nodding and marching out the room without a glance at the older men, heading for bed. Bruce watched him leave before returning his gaze to Jason. He jutted his chin towards the door that Damian had just left through, “He okay?”

 

Jason tried to relax his shoulders after they had unconsciously tensed from being left in the same room alone with his former mentor. Knowing the billionaire was referring to Dick, he shrugged. “I don’t know, but he will be.”

 

Bruce raised his eyebrows questioningly and his lips quirked at the unusual soft tone in his son’s voice.

 

Jason turned and walked out of the room, knowing that Bruce had his eyes trained on the gun-shaped bulge at the bottom of his spine. Bruce didn’t say anything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The code Dick uses is the Cluemaster's Code  
> (Start with Dick's "No!" and end with "Early morning and all that..")


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so.... idk where this came from...

The next morning dawned with gloomy, grey hues and a half-hearted drizzle of rain, which Jason just knew was a pitiful attempt at pathetic fallacy. He drew his bleary-eyed gaze from the window and rolled over slowly, stretching until his ears popped, and then relaxed his muscles until he lay motionless and limp; the blankets a tangled snarl at the end of his bed, his feet trapped in their unrelenting hold.

 

He sighed deeply and sat up against the wooden headboard, rubbing his eyes. Outside, he could hear the distant, underlying rumble of traffic that never ceased to stop and the sound of gravity being beat into submission by various helicopters. Even as far out as they were in the manor, the city still managed to brush them with its fingertips.

 

The wind that slithered silently through the gaps in the window convinced him to finally get up - the frigidness of the breeze was stinging his skin and the hairs on his arms had begun to raise defensively. He hastily rose from his bed, stumbling into the shower. After he had changed into his clothes, his buttery-soft leather jacket a reassuring weight across his shoulders, he made his way downstairs.

 

“He lives,” Damian mumbled around his toast – burnt to a crisp, just like he liked it - as Jason entered the kitchen, not sparing him a glance as he fiddled with the tablet in his grasp. Jason grumbled in his direction, flipping the baby-bird the bird, and made a bee-line for the coffee pot, his eyes flicking over the boy’s face and cataloguing the discoloured skin beneath his right eye where a nasty looking bruise was beginning to blossom and flourish, likely from patrol. 

 

Jason poured his coffee into the ‘ _mama needs coffee_ ’ mug that Dick had bought him two months ago, when out on patrol, and turned around, hopping up onto the counter effortlessly. Dick smirked crookedly from where he sat beside Damian at the island and breathed, “For once..”

 

Jason eyed his older brother as he flipped through the morning’s paper. He sat at the kitchen island in his pyjamas, different from the ones Jason remembered he had on, and his skin seemed pale, but healthier-looking compared to last night. To an untrained eye, he looked just like he did any other morning, but Jason was raised to spot the little signs, noticing that, even though Dick’s hands were seemed steady, the newspaper he held would quiver at regular intervals from slight tremors that ran through him. He also noticed how Damian was sitting closer to Dick than he normally would, their elbows brushing deliberately.

 

Jason raised his mug to his lips to hide his knowing grin and spoke around the rim, sniping back, “Fuck up, assholes.”

 

“ _Language_ , Master Jason. Must I remind you?” Alfred reprimanded long-sufferingly from where he had stepped into the kitchen from outside, shaking his gloves as he took them off. Damian snorted and Dick hid his suddenly blinding grin behind his paper.

 

Jason felt a sense of injustice creeping on him, but it was pushed down by the warmth that had spread through him, knowing that his death wasn’t a dirty secret that was to be shoved to the back of the closet. Joking about it probably wasn’t the way to deal with it, he’s sure Black Canary would remind him, but Bruce was a grown man that dressed up as a small, flying creature to fight crime as a vigilante under the cover of darkness after the tragic murder of his beloved parents.

 

 _To each his own_ , Jason figured.  He lowered the mug after taking a long pull of the bitter, black coffee.  “Sorry, Alfred.”

 

Alfred hummed in response, beginning to tidy up the kitchen. A comfortable silence then settled; disturbed only by Damian chewing, Jason sipping, Dick mumbling and Alfred wiping. Throughout the morning, more often than not, Jason noticed Damian watching Dick out of the corner of his eye, something that Dick was not oblivious to, but allowed.

 

No one mentioned last night. Jason wished he had.

 

* * *

 

Tim returned to the manor that afternoon from a successful mission, bouncing off the walls from excess adrenaline. Damian, as young and impressionable as he was, was soon swept up in the sudden surge of energy in the house and soon the two younger boys were insatiable. In a bid to stay sane and keep the house intact, Bruce decided to send them on a mission while he caught up on paperwork from _Wayne Enterprises_. Tim and Damian were beside themselves, running around the manor in a rare show of brotherly companionship.

 

Jason tried to convince himself that that was the reason why he didn’t notice Dick pale suddenly when he was informed of the boyband’s reunion – the name he gave to any mission that required Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin and Robin to work together. But the thing is, Jason did notice it, and he also noticed that Dick seemed withdrawn after hearing of their assigned mission.

 

This morning, Jason had to remind himself occasionally of Dick’s nighttime disturbance to remember that something was wrong. Dick acted as if nothing had ever happened; wrestling with Damian in the common room while Jason had read a book quietly, interrupted by the young boy’s reluctant, smothered giggles as Dick had found a weak spot in his defences and had targeted it mercilessly with wandering fingers.

 

But as they had made their way down to the cave to suit up, he had seemed lost in his own head, hardly speaking unless spoken to. Jason had brushed it off with some excuse or another. He shouldn’t have.

 

* * *

 

“Getting a little rusty there, Todd. Nearly let that last dude walk straight out of there-”

 

“Shut up, birdbrain. I got him, didn’t I?” Jason grunted, feeling a grin tug at his unwilling lips. And he had got the guy, with a bullet to the knee, no less. “You got no room to criticise anyway, with that sloppy backflip landing..“

 

“ _Hey_ ,” Damian snapped, “that was totally planned, alright? The- The guy knew I was gonna get straight up after, so I had to be _unpredictable_ -“

 

“Oh,” Jason praised mockingly, sounding impressed, “That’s a big word, Dami, since when have you read the dictionary? After Agent A beat you at _Scrabble_ for the second time, or the forty-second time?”

 

Damian started, his voice rising slightly as he incredulously said, ignoring Jason’s dig, “Listen, I’m positive he bloody _wrote_ the dictionary. That man is truly something else when it comes to words, Jason-“

 

Tim interrupted them. “Guys, no names over comms, you both _know_ that-“

 

“Oh, since when have you kept your bo staff up your ass, _Red_?”

 

Jason snorted so loud he heard it echo in his own helmet. Damian threw him a grin over his shoulder as he swung to the next building, letting him know that he knew his joke was appreciated. Tim slowed down slightly, scandalized, before sprinting forward across the rooftop they had landed on to catch up with Damian, who was already at the other edge, hastily throwing his grapple forward in an attempt to get away, an impudent sneer spreading across his face.

 

“ _Why you_ -“

 

“ _Stop_ ,” Dick barked suddenly.

 

Jason, Tim and Damian stopped. They landed with silent feet on the next rooftop over. Jason knew that the cold and emotionless tone stopped them more than the word itself, and he knew that, if anything, Dick was secretly enjoying the brotherly banter being thrown back and forth, even if he wasn’t joining in, so it wasn’t that. He restrained himself from glancing confusedly at the younger boys at his side.

 

They had left the cave a few hours ago, making their way into Gotham City. Dick had reassured them that the mission had no time restrictions, so they had stopped a few muggings along the way; occasionally splitting off but eventually rendezvousing every half hour or so to check in. As the night had worn on, Dick had finally called to start the assignment.

 

He had thus-far been silent over comms, which was highly unusual. He spoke only to warn one of them of an incoming hit or to inform them of a meeting point, while Damian took the comms as an opportunity to inflate his own ego, providing a running commentary on each of his manoeuvres. Tim took this as a direct challenge, and soon the young boys were trying to outdo each other good-naturedly, Jason jabbing a sarcastic comment or two occasionally to take them down a peg.

 

Jason watched as Dick sank to his hunches at the edge of the building they were on, looking around himself. Damian stepped forward after a moment and crouched beside Dick, Jason and Tim following his lead a second later.

 

Tim hesitated when no explanation was given, glancing at Dick out of the corner of his eye. “You okay, dude?”

 

“Hood, you’re leading this one” Dick said abruptly, hardly letting the words fall from Tim’s lips before he spoke.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“But Father _said_ -“

 

“I know, Robin,” Dick placated, his tone softening as he spared a glance downwards to his right where Damian was staring up at him in bewilderment. It was unlike the golden boy to go against the Bats orders, and Bruce had explicitly told them that Dick was running point on this mission. He returned his gaze forward once more.

 

Jason’s eyes narrowed. He felt a sense of foreboding and put his hand hesitantly on his older brother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, ‘wing?”

 

“It’s nothing,” Dick smiled tightly after a moment, shrugging the hand from his shoulder.

 

Jason raised his eyebrows. Dick was the most sensitive and tactile person he knew, something which pained him greatly when he was greeted with a hug every time he stopped in Blüdhaven or found himself in the manor. He shared a glance with the Robins, seeing his own confusion reflected on their face.

 

Aware of being the subject of all of his brother’s gazes, Dick stared with unfocused eyes at the street below, a slight breeze picking up his dark hair. None of them missed how Dick pulled his suddenly trembling hands into fists at his side.

 

Seeing this, Jason started. “Nightwing, come _on_ -”

 

The man in question cut him off with a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head, but Jason had a sinking feeling that the older man hadn’t even heard him in the first place. The sinking feeling in his gut intensified and his eyes narrowed behind his red helmet, the hairs on the back of his neck raising despite the humid night air.

 

Dick stood up quickly and paused before he breathed, “Just felt someone walk over my grave…”

 

Before Jason, Tim or Damian could even think of a dignified response to him, Dick leapt off the roof and freefell, before shooting his grapple and swinging to the opposite building. An uncomfortable silence settled in his wake.

 

“Keep a visual on Grayson at all times,” Jason snapped all of a sudden, taking control and shooting to his feet. Jason knew that Bruce would have hung them up to dry for using names in the field, but even Tim, who was always a stickler for the rules, said nothing this time and only nodded solemnly. He looked down at the Robins who stared back at him with matching stony expressions. His icy stare softened from behind the red helmet as he took in their downturned mouths and Damian’s furrowed brows. Jason clenched his jaw tight and, gentler than before, ordered, “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

 

* * *

 

The mission was simple. Drug cartel – take the guys out, phone the GCPD, report the drugs and knocked-out bad guys, get home and into bed. Jason had done harder things in his sleep. 

 

Even though Dick had released his leadership responsibilities to a reluctant Jason, he stopped them two blocks from the piers and laid out each of their roles. “Red Hood, you control this mission beyond this rooftop. For now, you’ll hit them from their right side; sneak around and call it whenever we’re all in position. Clear?”

 

“Crystal.”

 

“Red Robin, you come from behind. When we’ve revealed ourselves, you’re to stay close to Red Hood-“

 

“Nightwing-“

 

“It’s final. Robin, you’ll stay on this rooftop at all times, call out warnings and advice through comms.”

 

Jason’s own eyes widened and he watched as Damian jerked, his breath hitching. Tim quietly gasped, his gaze flicking from his suddenly trembling younger brother to his rigid oldest brother and back. Damian spun slowly from where he had been overlooking the street to face his brother, his face set in a disbelieving and angry scowl. “ _What_?”

 

Dick sighed. “Robin-“

 

“That’s so not _fair_ , I can-“

 

“I don’t care. You’ll-“

 

“But you, Red Hood and Red Robin get to-“

 

“ _Damian, I swear to god, I will send you home._ ”

 

Time seemed to freeze. Jason shifted in front of Damian slightly; whether he was protecting Damian Wayne from the suddenly unrecognisable, icy Dick Grayson, or protecting Dick Grayson from a furious, flying Damian Wayne, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that this could get ugly, fast.

 

He shook his head minutely at Tim, warning him to stay out of it. Keeping his eyes on an unstable-looking Dick, Jason reached behind him to grab whatever he could of a shaking Damian, tightening his grip to bruise-hard levels when the boy tried to angrily snake out of his grasp.

 

“Alright, Dickhead,” Jason started, raising a placating hand in front of him as Dick’s eyes snapped to his, “Let’s be real – you’re being a dickhead. Wanna tell me what this is about, hm?”

 

Dick shifted on his feet. Jason reached up slowly, keeping his hand open and reassuring, growing more concerned and feeling vaguely hurt as Dick actually tracked his hand - as if he would whip out a weapon. Instead, he reached up to his helmet and pulled the clasp at the back, tugging it off of his head slowly and chucking it uncaringly to the side, letting it clatter to the ground with a sharp, metallic sound.

 

Jason winced internally, hoping this would work. Even with the domino mask still in its place, perhaps Dick would feel more comfortable talking if he were able to see his face and his tells, which Dick was still able to read like an open book, even after Jason trained himself to keep his face impassive. It worked with everyone, even Bruce, but Dick always caught him out.

 

Sure enough, Dick threw his hands up in exasperation and exploded, “You wouldn’t understand!”

 

Jason was just glad to see him move. For an acrobat to be still for so long was not a good sign. He sighed, “’ _I wouldn’t understand’?_ Dick, I came back from the dead after taking a dip in the Lazarus Pit and hunted after the Bat in an anger-fuelled attempt to get back at the world for forgetting about me!”

 

Dick flinched violently. Tim looked down to avoid his gaze and even Damian eased up on pushing against his restraining hand. Okay, maybe not so comfortable with his death as he had thought. Jason cleared his throat and tried again.

 

“Dickie, come on,” he said softly, although he would deny it later if anyone said he did. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. “Just _tell us._ ”

 

“It’s the dream, isn’t it?” Tim burst suddenly, and Jason was half-worried that he had misread Bruce’s file on his eldest son because Dick looked like he had a tic, once again flinching uncontrollably. Jason turned his eyes to Tim accusingly.

 

“Damian told me,” the boy answered the question on his lips. Jason nodded. By the way Dick had recoiled, he had hit the nail on the head. _Detective, indeed_ , Jason thought approvingly.

 

“He’s right.."

 

Damian snorted loudly and Jason let him go, letting him step around him. He threw up his hands. “This is over a fucking _dream_? Grayson, wise up, it-“

 

“-was so _real,_ Dami,” Dick emphasized, his voice cracking. Jason straightened.

 

It was silent for a while. Tim stepped towards Dick and asked quietly, “N, what’s this about?”

 

“You- you were pushed off the pier, Damian, you _fell_ ,” Dick said, his voice soft and pleading. He reached up and flicked up the white lenses in his mask and they started when they saw his watering eyes, “Like mom, like dad..”

 

“And you,” Dick said, spinning around suddenly and pointing at Tim, speaking over Tim’s little squeak of “ _Me_?”, “You wouldn’t answer your comms… they _took you_. We couldn’t find you…. you disappeared…”

 

Jason couldn’t exactly blame him; if someone thought it was so okay to lay a hand on the two younger boys then Jason shouldn’t be held responsible for his actions in response. He sighed as Dick spun towards him. What had happened to him?

 

“You were _shot_ , Jason..”

 

Okay, now he was being an idiot.

 

Tim stole the words right out of his mouth. “Don’t be an idiot, Nightwing. What, you think we can’t look after ourselves?”

 

“No, I _meant_ -“

 

“We’re going and that’s final,” Damian snapped. Jason chuckled and wondered how Dick was going to dig himself out of that one, because he for sure wasn’t helping him. “But we’re talking about this when we get home.”

 

Across from him, Dick nodded dejectedly; looking at his feet, shoulders hunched protectively.

 

Situation averted, Jason and Tim turned to leave. Damian moved towards Dick, who was looking more and more like a kicked puppy with each step he took. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason watched Damian as he reached out and punched half-heartedly at Dick’s side, causing him to let out a sharp breath as his air was pushed out. Jason and Tim tried not to listen through the comms, but they couldn’t help but hear a small, “ _D, I’m sorry.”_

 

“ _Shut up, Grayson… we’re good.._ ”

 

Before he jumped off the roof, Jason thought he saw Damian reach up and pull Dick into a rough embrace, Dick grasping on tightly, but he couldn’t swear it in a court of law if someone asked him to.

 

* * *

 

“Tuck your dang leg in, Drake,” Jason grunted from where he sat on a fire escape, catching his breath as he watched the two Robins clean up the remaining few. Bruce really was going to have a coronary when he reviewed the recordings of this particular operation. They had used each other’s names a _ridiculous_ amount of times. But, to be honest, Jason had lost that ‘ _yes, sir, no, sir’_ mentality somewhere between when the Joker had beat his bones to mush and when he had blown him up for the kicks. Bruce could suck his big toe for all he cared.

 

“Getting tired there, old man?” Damian inquired as he ran up a wall and back flipped to land behind the guy chasing him, catching him by surprise, and landing a, frankly, impressive backhand to the man’s face when he turned; followed by a knee to the face as he stumbled forward.

 

“Shut your mouth,” Jason grumbled, watching from his perch as Red Robin swept his staff beneath some guy’s feet, causing him to fall on his ass. He finished him with a blow to a head, one Jason knew from experience that he would feel in the morning. He jumped down, the scene clear. People groaned and moaned from various broken bones as Tim and Damian made their rounds, trying their legs and hands together.

 

“Where’s Nightwing?” he said after a moment, looking around.

 

“Saw him go down towards the pier,” Tim answered. He raised his hands in defence as both Jason and Damian turn to glare at him. “What? I had my own guys to deal with, I can’t babysit Nightwing too…”

 

Jason rolled his eyes and gestured to the younger boys to follow him, heading for the pier to collect their missing bird. “Red, call Gordon and tell him about these guys. Make sure-“

 

Jason cuts himself off as they turn the corner. He’s not sure how the _hell_ this guy got the drop on the acrobat, but a man is waving Dick’s escrima sticks in the air, taunting, as their owner writhes on the ground.

 

Jason’s suddenly running, hearing Tim’s muttered curse and Damian’s animalistic growl as they run behind him. The guy hasn’t seen them yet. Dick yelped, his voice echoing in their comms, as the guy hit him with the escrima and even Jason, from his distance away, can hear the faint _click_ as the electricity cackles to life. Dick seized and jerked involuntarily, a strained scream crawling passed his clenched teeth as the electricity surged through his aching muscles.

 

The man finally sees them pounding towards him when Jason fires a shot in the air. In shock and dawning horror, the guy jerked the escrima away from a twitching Dick - still shaking from the aftershocks of his own weapon.

 

Panicking, the guy pulled back and pulled out a gun. 

 

Jason cursed. He never remembered the pier being this _bloody long._ With renewed motivation and a lighter build, Damian passed Jason and Tim with a primitive cry, jumping in the air as he reached the man, letting his foot slam into the side of his face.

 

Jason still heard the bullet echo in his sleep years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry bout that ending


	3. Chapter 3

“You stay with me, Dickhead, I _swear to god_ …” Jason snarled as he pushed down on Dick’s abdomen, nearly gagging as he felt his brother’s warm blood continue to seep through his clenched-white fingers and gush out over his shaking hands. He felt betrayed by his own body as his eyes began to sting.

                             

“D- Don’t you go cry- crying on me n- now, little wing….” Dick whispered slowly. Jason swore under his breath as his eyes caught on the sight of blood staining his brother’s teeth. He hadn’t even considered internal injuries. Dick grunted and began to pant open-mouthed as he angrily tightened his grip. His eyes were wild as he chuckled breathlessly, a wolfish grin splitting his face. Jason really needed to stop unconsciously memorizing that smile as if it would be the last time he would ever see it.

 

 _he’s conscious, which means he’s got time… not a lot of it, but some - enough. he’ll be fine, just keep pressure on it…_ That’s all that was running through his head. Jason’s not really sure when he began to think of Dick as his brother, or Tim and Damian for that matter, but he’s not going to lose a family member to a bullet-welding _asshole_ when he’s only just reconciled with him.

 

Reminded of the guy, Jason snarled to Tim, who jumped. “Tie his ass down and get him out of my sight before I throw him over the fucking pier with a bullet in his _head._ ”

 

“ _Or a sword through his fucking heart.”_

 

Ignoring Damian, Jason reached up and pushed at his earpiece. “Hood to Agent A, get Big B on the line.”

 

"Now, sir?"

 

" _Yesterday_ , Alfred."

 

It pained him to even ask Bruce for help with anything, after all these years, but - this was _Dick_. Jason has never appreciated Alfred’s professionalism under pressure more than in this moment as the butler barely hesitated for half a second. “Certainly, sir”

 

Before he could apologise for his sharp tone, the line clicked and Bruce’s gruff voice filled his ear questioningly, “Red Hood?”

 

“B, Big Bird’s hurt. Bullet to lower abdomen, other injuries-”

 

“I’m there. Keep him talking.” The line clicked.

 

“Okay, okay..” Jason breathed, shifting on his knees. He turned to his brother, “Dickie? B says you gotta keep talking..”

 

Dick chuckled painfully, trying to curl in on himself. Jason doesn’t let him. “Why is he always so d- difficult? Just- Just let me pass out..”

 

“Don’t even _think_ about it, birdbrain,” Damian growled as he knelt on the other side of Dick, opposite Jason. The younger boy put his hands over Jason’s and pushed down, drawing a strangled cry from Dick. Jason raised his head to look at Damian, checking in, and met an angrily clenched jaw and eyes blazing. Despite all that, Jason thought he heard a fierce sniffle.

 

“B- but his Kevlar..” Tim trailed off, fidgeting behind Damian, shifting nervously. Reminded of the younger boys, Jason took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He had to be in control – keep Dick from bleeding out and keep the boys from freaking out.

 

“Too close of a range,” Jason said softly. Jason knew that Tim knew that the gun was too close to Dick for the protective vest to stop the bullet; he was just asking out of desperation. Knowing the boy was feeling useless, he gave him something to do, “Tim, go to the end of the pier and look for Bats, direct him to our position.”

 

They all knew that Bruce had put GPS in their earpieces, for situations like this, but Tim nodded anyway.  He reached into his belt and gave his brother a white bandage. Jason took it gratefully, slipping it under his hands to press against Dick, and he let his eyes follow the younger boy as he ran down the pier and felt worry - something that he hadn’t felt in a while - crawl in his stomach.

 

Jason turned back as he heard Dick yelp. He caught Damian’s raised hand as he went to slap Dick again, “What the hell are you _doing_?”

 

“He was falling asleep!” Damian protested, straining against Jason’s hand around his wrist, “I was waking him up!”

 

Dick slowly moved his eyes to Damian and took in his face. He said slowly and earnestly, “J- Just resting my eyes..”

 

“Like _hell_ ,” Damian snarled, his clenched teeth showing in his trademark scowl.

 

Jason shook the boy. “Damian, I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to _keep it together_ ,” he tugged Damian’s suddenly shaking hand and pushed it to Dick’s wound, trapping it beneath his own and pushing down. He caught and held the younger boys’ gaze. “It’ll be okay, alright?”

 

After a moment, Damian nodded hesitantly and his body loosened, his face losing its angry snarl and relaxing into something much more like what a 13 year-old who had just watched his big brother/father figure be shot looked like. Jason instantly hated it. He hoped to god, or whoever was up there, that he didn’t just make an empty promise.

 

Jason looked out of the corner of his eye to Dick, who was, surprisingly, looking back. He had a soft kind of smile on his lips, his eyes glazed over. Jason felt cold, trembling fingers grasp weakly at his wrist. Jason read the look in his brother’s eyes - _look after them_.

 

“Don’t you do that, fuckface,” Jason snarled angrily, defiantly. Damian looked up at him bewilderedly but he ignored him.

 

Dick kept staring up at him with a brotherly – _loving_ – look that Jason had never really appreciated or addressed until now. God, he didn’t want to lose that look. He didn’t want to go back to Bruce’s stony silence after the tentative truce they had at the minute; he didn’t want to go back to Alfred’s hesitancy. He didn’t want to go back to Tim’s almost frightened look that he had had when Jason had only ever referred to him as ‘ _Replacement_ ’. He definitely – _definitely_ – didn’t want to go back to Damian’s angry glare, knowing that, this time, it was because of his broken promise.

 

Damian looked up, over Jason’s shoulder, and tensed up. Before Jason could look himself, Damian wiggled his hand out from under his and wiped his slightly watering eyes – that Jason or Dick had noticed, but tactfully ignored – through the mask with the back of his wrist, managing to get blood smeared over his forehead. Jason winced.

 

“Bat’s here,” the boy explained and, for some reason, Jason found himself relaxing when he normally would have tensed up. He ignored Dick’s drowsy, knowing grin.

 

After arriving at the pier in the Batmobile, Batman took over. He pushed a willing Jason towards Damian and Tim as he knelt beside his eldest son, cape billowing dramatically behind him as he took over Jason’s job of keeping pressure on the wound.

 

They had a small conversation with quiet voices, but Jason, at that moment, didn’t have the energy to eavesdrop. He turned his back to the scene and roughly grasped Tim and Damian by the shoulder, ripping their gazes from Batman and Nightwing. “Go check the perimeter. Robin, go left; Red Robin, go right. Meet and come straight back here to this pier, okay?”

 

“But-“

 

Jason interrupted Tim’s protest and asked, “You want Batman caught unawares with an injured Nightwing?”

 

Damian hesitated, obviously unhappy. “…No”

 

“Then _go_ ,” Jason ordered with no give in his voice, kind of hating himself as, with matching accusing glares, the Robins left. He thought he heard an almost Batman-growl in his voice.

 

Speak of the devil. “I know you hated sending the boys away, but it’s what I would’ve done.”

 

Looking over, Jason watched Batman withdraw a small syringe from Nightwing’s arm, knowing, from experience, that it was a mild pain-killer. The pain must have been bad if Dick had allowed him to be injected with it – the guy hated needles almost as much as he hated being benched from patrol, or Alfred’s disapproving, disappointed stare.

 

“And you’re always right?” Jason asked as he crossed his arms defensively at Dick’s feet. He had meant the comment to be sarcastic and biting, but it came out more as a genuine question. To his surprise, it was Bruce that replied, not Batman.

 

“No,” he admitted after a while, his voice softening, “Not nearly enough.”

 

Jason took the apology for what it was. He nodded.

 

“You’re just a man, B” Dick rasped from his place on the ground beneath Batman’s hands.

 

Simultaneously, both Jason and Bruce snapped, “ _Shut up_ ”

 

Dick chuckled before choking, wincing as he moved painfully. Jason started forward and stopped, snapping sharply, “Should we be waiting this long?”

 

“He’s stable, for now,” Bruce added, “But you’re right, we should go before the Robins return - they don’t need to see this. Help me lift him.”

 

“Oh, _shit_ -” Dick started as Batman lifted his shoulders up and Jason took his feet. The acrobat was heavier than he looked, muscles built up from his stint as Batman, but, somehow, he still managed to be lithe and agile. Jason didn’t know where he put it all.

 

By the time they had reached the Batmobile, he was passed out. Batman pressed a button on his gauntlet and Jason started as the Batmobile opened up like a flower opening in the spring, reaching out with dark, metal, claw-like arms to cradle Dick before retracting, encasing Dick its protective embrace.

 

“…Impressive” Jason finally said, slightly uncomfortable. It reminded him of a book that Bruce used to read to him, about exotic flowers around the world. _Dionaea muscipula_ , his mind tells him. Jason had never told Bruce, but the fact that there were carnivorous plants out there had terrified him when he was younger. Maybe even more so now, with people like Poison Ivy out there, it was a legitimate question – who could stop them if they weaponized meat-eating plants?

 

Almost as if he were reading his mind, Bruce smirked amusedly. He turned, walking towards the driver’s seat. “Get the Robins home, let them run off the excess adrenaline - give them time to cool off. They’ve been through a lot.”

 

He climbed in the Batmobile and turned to meet his son’s set jaw and clenched fists and saw the concern there. His voice softened, “Jason, he’ll be fine… he’s a tough kid - he’s had worse.”

 

Jason wasn’t as reassured by that as he probably should have been. It wasn’t until he had watched Batman scorch his tires as he skidded away that he realized that Bruce had used his name while in the field.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bruce, I can-“

 

Bruce gave Jason a pointed look that cut him off as effectively as it did when he was Robin. He bristled as he watched the older man flick his eyes over his shoulder. Jason followed with his own, landing on the two Robins. The birds were, for lack of a better word, huddled, their eyes watching Alfred’s every move as he bent over Dick’s unconscious, bloody body, their elbows brushing against each other’s sides. Jason thought he saw Damian’s little finger pushed into a clasp in Tim’s belt and Tim’s hand tangled in Damian’s cape.

 

Taking in the two Robins, he turned back and nodded to Bruce, who grimaced in reply. Jason read the look on his face – _good luck, glad it’s not me._

 

But this wasn’t Jason’s first rodeo dealing with frightened birds. He had had to deal with the younger boys on the way home and he was never letting Dick get shot again. Quietly distraught and worried, both boys were reckless, throwing out their grapples and swinging before they had even checked their line was secure. Jason had watched Tim slip down a few feet before he caught himself and Damian had nearly lost his footing on the edge of a roof when his line didn’t swing him as far as he needed it to.

 

If it was any other time, Jason would have stopped them and ripped into them for being so stupid; but it wasn’t any other mission. To be honest, Jason doesn’t think they would have stopped if he had told them to anyway. Visions of falling birds had filled his head, so Jason had kept a careful eye out, frantically following behind them so he would be able to catch them if one of them went down.

 

By the time they had reached the cave, Jason’s heart was permanently stuck in his throat, he had a pounding headache and he had wanted to shove Dick off the medical bed so that he could just go lie down and bring his blood pressure back down from where it had been through the roof.

 

Slightly less frazzled than before, Jason turned to the boys after Bruce had given him a smile that could only be described as encouraging. Damn that man.

 

“Right, ladies,” Jason said with more enthusiasm than he felt, “We’ve had an… eventful night, so let’s-“

 

“You are not sending us away again,” Domain scowled, “Not again.”

 

Meeting an impenetrable wall of solid anger and worry, Jason sighed and dropped his overly-eager tone. “Okay. But listen, kids, Bruce said he’ll be fine. When has he ever lied?”

 

Both boys glared at him.

 

“-when it mattered?”

 

Damian snorted and Tim chuckled darkly. Jason sighed heavily, “Okay, so if you don’t trust Bruce quite like that, who will you trust?”

 

“…You.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

Tim nodded in agreement, ignoring Jason’s startled outburst. “Yeah, you promise us he’ll be fine and we’ll go.”

 

Jason crossed his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Why me?”

 

“You’re our big brother, if we can’t trust you then we can’t trust _anybody._ ”

 

“And Grayson obviously can’t tell us, so you’ll have to.”

 

Jason cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, suddenly - horribly and embarrassingly - choked up. Good god, the Robins had him good. When had they started relying on him for anything - apart from trying to kill them?

 

“I promise,” Jason breathed, stepping forward and kneeling to Damian’s height, keeping his eyes on Tim’s face, “Dick Grayson will be _fine_ , alright?”

 

It was quiet for a moment before Tim nodded, after searching his brother’s face for something. What, Jason couldn’t tell you – that he was lying, he guessed. “Okay. Let’s go, Dami.”

 

Jason looked back at Alfred and Bruce who were leaning over Dick and made an executive decision. “I’ll come with you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tim had gotten his shirt after he bashfully admitted how smitten he was with the Amazonian after he met her at a Justice League meeting, and Dick pounced on the chance to tease him, recruiting Damian to find the best source of shame he could. Instead of being embarrassed, the boy wore the shirt with pride, parading around in it for a month before Bruce enlisted Alfred to get him to stop wearing it constantly. As a result, the shirt is worn and faded due to years of loving and Tim once admitted to Dick that it was the best present he had ever gotten the younger boy.

 

Meanwhile, in sharp contrast, Damian’s shirt is torn, and has a suspicious hole through the middle of the ‘ _S_ ’. Dick had bought it as a joke, meant to irritate Bruce to see his _own biological son_ wear the shirt of his ally – the one that he had an uneasy companionship with and the one that Dick called ‘ _Uncle Clark’._ The relationship between the Bat and the Kyptonian was complex and complicated - it was fucked up, to be honest, but Jason secretly thought the simile of them being brothers fitted perfectly. After Damian refused to take it off, much like Tim and his shirt, Dick swore he saw Bruce take a knife to the shirt one night when it was his turn to do the washing, but has never been able to prove it.

 

Jason’s shirt was also bought by Dick, who thought it was hilarious, and for that fact – and only that fact – Jason wore it to bed anytime he can. He liked the beaming smile that lit up Dick’s face every time, and that is all. It’s definitely not because he still has some lingering sense of awe regarding Bruce after all these years – it’s not. Despite how frequently he wore the shirt, it was still in pristine condition.

 

After Tim had donned his ‘ _Wonder Woman’_ shirt, Jason his ‘ _Batman_ ’ shirt and Damian his ‘ _Superman_ ’ shirt, they climbed into bed. It was an unspoken but unanimous decision to sleep in Dick’s room, his dirty ‘ _Flash_ ’ shirt thrown over the chair in the corner.

 

Damian and Tim are out like a light before their heads even hit the pillow. Trapped between them, Jason rested up against the headboard. He grunted when Tim curled around his thigh in his sleep and when Damian kicked his leg, his small hand reaching up and weakly grasping the shirt over his stomach. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment.

 

Jason isn’t sure where he was when he’s woken up, but it doesn’t matter, because the door was slowly opening. He sat up quickly, pushing a tense Damian and a quiet Tim down as they try to follow his lead, indicating that he wants them to pretend to be asleep. He has his jaw set, eyes focused as he glared at the doorway, only to see -

 

\- _Dick_.


	4. Chapter 4

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

 

Tim and Damian tensed further under his hands, still unable to see who is at the door under Jason’s restraining hand. Jason suddenly moved, throwing back the covers and climbing over Tim to get to a pale and shaking Dick. The younger boys sat up quickly. Tim unconsciously put a precautionary hand in front of Damian, who was furthest from the door, before gasping quietly when he realised who was in the doorway. Damian muttered indistinctly, but Tim thought he heard a, “… _god dammit Grayson_..”

 

“Had to see you and the babybirds, Jay..” Dick mumbled slowly from where he was leaning up against the doorway, blinking drowsily, “Had to make sure-“

 

“Just _shut up_ , alright?” Jason snapped, interrupting him as he reached his brother’s side. Deciding that the cave was too far away, he took Dick’s arm gently and placed it over his shoulder, “Lean your weight on me and walk as slow as you want, okay?”

 

Dick took him at his word. Jason had no idea how the acrobat had made his way from the cave to his bedroom; up the stairs and even more stairs. He shuffled more than he walked, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Tim and Damian wisely kept quiet in the bed, realising that it was probably taking a lot of concentration to put one foot in front of the other in his state. However, they had no such problems laying into him as soon as he had reached the bed.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Grayson, are you dumb as well as stupid? Why would you-?”

 

“ _Wait._ ”

 

Both boys fell silent once more and Jason paused from where he had been trying to release his hold on Dick’s arm. Their older brother had no shirt on, white bandages, speckled with red patches, were wound tightly around his torso and he wore sweats that hung loose on his hips and extended beyond his ankles, nearly to the tips of his toes – they were far too big for him, and Jason had an inkling that they were his. Looking up into his brother’s face, he saw a pale, gaunt face with eyes screwed shut and a literal bead of sweat run down his temple.

 

Jason had had enough. “Okay, circus freak, you’ve had your walk about. Tim, go get Bruce-“

 

Dick started, his eyes snapping open as they fixed on Jason’s face. “ _No_!” Then, softer, quieter, “Please, Jay, I wanna stay with you guys.”

 

Jason had no reply. Damian let out a low whistle. “That dream messed you up good, didn’t it, Grayson?”

 

Dick flinched and Jason cursed as he nearly lost his grip. He glared at Damian, who looked back innocently. The vigilante sighed and shifted, finally getting Dick’s arm off his broad shoulders and gently positioning him on the bed. Without being told, Damian and Tim shuffled over to make room as Jason bodily dragged Dick up the bed to lie with his head on the pillow. Thank god Dick had a ridiculously massive bed.

 

But Dick still didn’t calm down, his breath coming in short bursts, his chest rising and falling dramatically. Jason paused. “Uh, Dickie? Calm down, we’re not going anywhere.”

 

Dick still didn’t stop. He suddenly gasped loudly and Jason started, snapping, “Dick, I swear to god if you have a panic attack right now, I will drag your ass back to medical so fast-“

 

A firm voice interrupted him from behind. “ _Move._ ”

 

Distracted by Dick’s hyperventilation, Jason hadn’t noticed Tim crawl to the end of the end and amble over to a chest of drawers, realising what was happening. When Jason turned, he saw Tim holding something small, blue and plastic. Jason jerked, unsettled.

 

“He has _asthma_?”

 

Tim sighed long-sufferingly but explained, “A mild case, but yeah.”

 

He sprang out of the way of Tim and watched him as he sat beside Dick, holding the medication up to his lips and counting as Dick sucked the medicated air in and out. A billion questions buzzed around his head and he tried to angrily swat them away. It wasn’t that bad, Dick is a grown man and he can take care of himself - he shouldn’t be this concerned. But still, _how_ did he not know this? What if Dick had taken an asthma attack while on patrol? What would Jason have done? Just have stood there?

 

Damian rolled his eyes. “Oh, good grief, _give over_. I can hear you thinking from here. He’s _fine._ ”

 

“But he runs about rooftops and does all that _acrobatic shit_ -“

 

Tim answered him. “He had it as a kid, but grew out of it, like most people do. It comes back sometimes - usually in summer or when he has a cold or chest infection or something like that,” Tim paused and added, “Or when he gets shot, apparently.”

 

Dick snorted around the plastic.

 

“But-“

 

Damian cut him off with a sniff. “Stop fretting, Florence Nightingale, your patient is fine. God, you’re worse than Alfred when Dick has a cold.”

 

Jason grumbled, but fell silent, unhappy. Tim threw him a smirk over his shoulder. After Dick caught his breath, the younger boy asked, “So, what happened?”

 

“Well, we didn’t have to call out Leslie, so that was good. Had surgery to-“

 

“Who did the surgery then?”

 

“Oh _my god_ , Todd, stop being a worrywart,” Damian said, exasperated. Jason huffed. The younger boy turned to Dick, “What did Alfred say?”

 

“The vest didn’t stop it fully, but it slowed it down. The bullet wasn’t as far in as it would have been. Alfred just had to go fishing for a while to find it. It looked worse than it was.”

 

"What about your internal injuries? There was blood on your teeth."

 

"Bit my tongue when he shocked me," Dick explained, adding, "All I have is some bruises and a bullet wound."

 

Jason hummed and nobody spoke for a moment.

 

“So Bruce didn’t do the surgery?”

 

“No, he was controlling the anesthesia and, you know, all that jazz.”

 

Damian smirked. “So… he was the nurse?”

 

Dick paused, tilting his head, as if he was thinking about it. Then, with a sly smile on his pale face, he nodded. Both Robins snorted and even Jason chuckled – they were so getting Bruce a little nurse’s uniform for Halloween. With a tiny, tiny skirt.

 

After a moment, they settled down, and Tim carefully scrabbled over Dick to his other side - under Damian’s intense glare. Jason shook his head - that kid had a protective streak a mile wide.

 

With Damian, Tim and Dick tucked up in bed, he smothered a smile. He dragged Dick’s desk chair over to the side of the bed, chucking the dirty clothes to the floor. He put himself between the door and the Batkids.

 

Tim turned into Dick’s side - his uninjured side - and the older brother slowly lifted his arm to wrap around him so that his head rested in the crook of his shoulder. He brought his hand down to curve along the younger boy’s back. Damian immediately claimed ownership of the limb and latched on to it, enveloping it with both of his own arms.

 

The boy frowned at Jason over Tim’s shoulder, as if he was challenging him to say anything. Jason raised his hand and waved it in a ‘ _go ahead’_ gesture and held back a sigh. He didn’t know when this kid was going to realize that he wasn’t going to judge him for seeking comfort and affection if he needed it – god knows the kid needed it after being brought up by Talia al Ghul and Ra’s al Ghul.

 

A strange sort of tranquility settled over them. He likened it to a blanket surrounding them; protecting them. It was warm and comfortable, and Jason swore the world outside had disappeared, leaving the four of them alone. It was quiet for so long that Jason would have been convinced that the other three had fallen asleep if he hadn’t been trained to recognize the difference between conscious breathing and unconscious breathing. Jason knew both Damian and Tim were exhausted and were on the verge of an adrenaline crash, but they seemed to be waiting for something. Sure enough, Dick didn’t disappoint.

 

“That guy,” Dick mumbled quietly into the stillness of the room, “I followed him halfway through the fight after I saw him leave – he was walking to the pier. He was dragging a sack, and it was full – _bulging_ , really.”

 

They all stayed still and silent as their older brother paused, seeming to be collecting himself. Dick sucked in a large breath and let it out slowly, muttering, “I didn’t make it in time… he threw it over the edge into the water.”

 

He chuckled darkly to himself and, in the dark, Jason saw him shake his head self-deprecatingly. “It’s stupid – _really_ stupid. I had just left them, fighting with you, but- but I thought it was Tim, or Damian.”

 

Ah. That explained it then. Jason nodded understandingly and murmured softly, “It’s okay, Dick.”

 

Dick shook his head as if in disagreement, staring at the ceiling. “I saw _red_ , Jay, I didn’t even think. I just _ran.”_

Jason hummed. He would have done the same.

 

“I- I, uh,” Dick cleared his throat, as if he were embarrassed, and carried on, “I didn’t even stop with the guy. I just ran straight to the pier to look over. I saw the sack sinking, but it was close enough to reach so I- I dropped my escrimas to grab it...”

 

As he trailed off, Jason stiffened and his hands curled into fists as he remembered the man with his brother’s weapons.

 

“I dragged it up, but it was so _heavy_. I’d just got it up over the edge when the guy hit me – with _my own weapons_. I- I should have been able to beat him back, still,” Dick paused and Jason pointedly ignored his wet sniff before he continued, “but I thought it was one of you two, and the bag _wasn’t moving._ ”

 

“I saw the bag,” Damian revealed as they tactfully ignored Dick trying to compose himself. His voice softened uncharacteristically as he added, “But, Dick, it was just the drugs… he was getting rid of evidence.”

 

“Oh,” Dick breathed, seeming to shrink in on himself.

“D, what did you dream that night?” Tim whispered after a long while.

 

Dick sighed heavily. “It was stupid. It’s all so _stupid_ -“

 

“Dick,” Jason interrupted him sharply, “You’re okay. Tell us, come on.”

 

The acrobat sighed once more and shifted, getting comfortable. “Well, you all know that I grew up in the circus before Bruce, right?”

 

Jason snorted. Damian rolled his eyes. Tim just hummed, tapping Dick’s chest for him to go on.

 

“Well,” Dick started, “At that time, I was really the only kid in the circus, so, by default, I was everyone’s kid,” he chuckled, “I had a lot of Aunts and Uncles, as you can imagine.”

 

Jason winced. Yeah, Grayson had only lost his parents to Zucco, but he had lost an entire family to CPS.

 

“I used to have these dreams. I’d tell Aunt Vadoma about them – she was the seer, like the fortune teller person,” Dick explained, “And she’d tell me that I was very… gifted,” he stuttered. Jason smirked when he saw Dick blush, hurriedly moving on, “She said that I had some sense of foresight-”

 

“Oh, _come on_ ,” Damian began, “Surely you can’t be-“

 

“Dami, I dreamed about falling for _weeks_ before _they did._ ”

 

Damian fell silent. Jason watched as Tim shifted back to push comfortingly against the boy behind him. He then whispered, sounding young and ashamed, “I’m sorry, D.”

 

Dick twisted his arm in the young boy’s grasp to grab his hand, strengthening his grip as the boy squeezed back almost desperately. “It’s okay - you’re alright.”

 

Damian sniffed.

 

“Over the years,” Dick continued after a while, “I had some dreams, now and again. Not all of the dreams would come true, but enough of them would that I never forgot about what Vadoma said. My grandmother - on my dad’s side - was a seer, so maybe…”

 

He never finished that thought, trailing off and leaving it lingering in the air. The room fell silent once more. Jason stood from his place in the chair and pulled the curtain. The sun would begin to peak over the Wayne Manor trees soon. He sat at the bottom of the bed, resting his hand on Dick’s blanketed foot. “Get some sleep, babybirds. You, too, Dickhead.”

 

Damian lifted his head, tilting it towards the bed. “ _In._ ”

 

“I know, I know…” he huffed. He fell back and shifted around to get comfortable, curling up at the bottom of the bed like an overprotective dog. Tim threw him down a pillow.

 

“Love you guys.”

 

“That’s deplorable, Grayson.”

 

Jason heard Tim snort in agreement, but felt both boys slip closer to Dick.

 

He waited until they had all fallen asleep. About half an hour later, the sun peering through the gaps in the curtains, Jason whispered back, “G’night, assholes.”

 

Dick kicked him with his foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's all folks...  
> i felt like i made the boys very soft in this chapter, but the fluff was too hard to resist  
> leave a kudo and a comment if you enjoyed :)


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